


I Cut What I Cannot Have

by FahcLove



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Daisy and Jon r friends!, Dreams, F/F, Mentions of Blood, set before 140
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 08:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20239933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FahcLove/pseuds/FahcLove
Summary: Daisy was chasing someone. She couldn't tell who it was, the long maze she was running through only gave glimpses of her prey, they were wearing a grey cardigan, black pants, had dark tan skin, and were being very loud. Daisy would have caught them immediately if she didn’t love the chase so much. But, every chase has to come to an end, every prey has to be caught, every hunt has a goal.Daisy has a nightmare and Jon is there to try to be helpful.





	I Cut What I Cannot Have

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by this cover of Talent Sampler by Snazzle. You can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eb6KFHWgxx8)  
(you should it's a really good song).

Daisy was chasing someone. She couldn't tell who it was, the long maze she was running through only gave glimpses of her prey, they were wearing a grey cardigan, black pants, had dark tan skin, and were being very loud. Daisy would have caught them immediately if she didn’t love the chase so much. But, every chase has to come to an end, every prey has to be caught, every hunt has a goal. So, when she finally got bored of her prey running and panting and whimpering, she caught them, sticking her leg out and tripping them when they turned around a corner. They immediately fell, letting out a cry and a sickening thump as their body collided with the ground. Daisy pounced. 

She didn’t even spare a glance at her prey before she was on top of them, pinning their legs down as she sat on their torso. She then pulled out a long knife and pointed it against their throat, pressing hard enough to draw a trickle of blood. Her prey was whimpering softly, but not making any other noise than that. Then, finally, Daisy got a good look at them.

It was Jon. He was dressed in the same outfit he was wearing at the Archives: grey cardigan, black pants, glasses, and the same brown loafers he always wore. Daisy looked around. They were in the tunnels, grey concrete slabs looming menacingly at her. She looked back at Jon to see that, in her realization of where she was, she had pushed too hard on her knife, cutting his neck. The blood was pouring out of him in waves, much more than she had ever seen from any person before. He wasn’t whimpering now. He wasn’t saying anything, just looking at her. Staring through her with eyes bigger than saucers, unblinking. She jumped off of him and landed in a puddle of blood that slowly filled up, covering her hands and feet, then her legs, and slowly up her waist. Jon was still staring at her as she tried to move, but somehow the blood seemed to solidify and she was frozen as the blood turned to sand and finally covered her head, her vision enveloped in darkness. 

Daisy bolted awake, shaking and panting. It was just a dream. She looked at her shaking hands, not stained in blood, and tried to get her body to calm down, reaching over and feelings Basira beside her still fast asleep. Daisy didn’t want to wake her up, so she just slipped her hand in hers and tried to calm down. 

In for four. It was just another nightmare. 

Hold for seven. She was doing better without the Hunt. 

Out for eight. She and Jon were friends now.

She did feel a little better, her heart rate slowing ever slightly, the shaking in her hands going down. But she knew she wasn’t going to sleep tonight. So, peeling her hand away from Basira’s, who grumbled softly, she went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. As she waited for the water to boil, she looked at the clock, reading 4:57 in bright green numbers. That wasn’t too bad, she would be waking up in a few hours anyway. Daisy sat down at the kitchen table, book in hand, tea in the other, and tried to relax.

That’s where Basira found her, just a few hours later, sipping a cup of tea long empty and reading the last few pages of her book. She didn’t comment on it, and Daisy was grateful.

“Breakfast?” she said instead, and Daisy nodded, watching Basira get to work on their usual eggs and toast. 

They ate the meal in silence as both women reflected on their life up to this point. Daisy wasn’t stupid. She knew how Basira thought of her since she came out of the coffin. Even though she helped Daisy through every one of her exercises, taught her tips and held her when she was freaking out, it was obvious. Daisy was gone eight months, trapped in a coffin of sand. She lost everything that connected her to real life and lost her passion for The Hunt. Basira didn’t understand what it was like. She couldn’t understand. She just saw Daisy as dead weight. And as much as she tried to disagree, she couldn’t. Right now, while she suffered from nightmares that left her crying, and while she couldn’t run for more than 30 minutes without her legs shaking, she was useless. But she was getting better. She hoped Basira would see that soon, and stop giving her those looks that make her feel like a glass doll. 

But, Basira was fresh out of looks this morning and the meal finished quietly enough, the couple on their way to The Magnus Institute, hand in hand. Daisy commented on a couple birds she saw flying above them, and Basira hummed in agreement, showing she was listening, but barely. Daisy swallowed the quiet rage that bubbled up inside her and squeezed Basira’s hand. Basira squeezes back, and the two were back to their normal game of “Try Not To Break Your Girlfriend’s Finger But Still Win”. This round ended Daisy winning, as usual, but gloating was cut short when they walked into the Archives and saw Melanie with a furious look on her face.

“What is it, Melanie?” Basira asked, but Melanie just scowled. Ever since Jon and Basira’s shoddy surgery, Melanie had made it pretty clear that she was as mad at Basira as she was at Jon. 

Daisy tried to be the mediator, “Did Jon do something again?” she asked, and tried to contain her shock when Melanie shook her head.

“Not this time,” she said, talking directly to Daisy and _ not _ Basira, “It’s Martin. I finally caught a glimpse of him, and since I’m _ trying _ to be nicer since you-know-what, I said a quick hello, asked him how he’s been, you know. And he just frowns at me! As if _ I’m _the reason he decided to lock himself away and work with bloody Peter Lukas. It’s so frustrating! And also we’re out of black tea.”

“I’ll get someone to run down to the store and pick up some,” Daisy offered, and Melanie nodded, already looking calmer, “And, maybe I could talk to Martin? I don’t think he’s seen me since I came back from…” she trailed off, but Melanie knew what she meant.

“Maybe. Don’t expect anything from it. Even Jon’s tried talking to him and I think the exact same thing happened to him.”

Daisy nodded, but before she could say anything else, a yellow door appeared next to her, swinging open. 

“I’ll see you later then,” she said instead, and Melanie waved goodbye, walking through the door, which disappeared after a few seconds.

“Are you actually going to?” Basira asked when Melanie was gone.

“Going to what?”

“Talk to Martin.”

“I might. I haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe when you go off on one of your ‘secret missions’,” Daisy didn’t bother to hide the contempt in her voice and Basira didn’t comment. 

“Well, if you do, I wish you luck. Do you want me to help you with your exercises?”

Daisy nodded, and she and Basira walked into one of the more empty storage rooms. Daisy sat on the ground, her legs spread in front of her, and Basira sat next to her. She put her hand on Daisy’s leg and slowly lifted it in the air. Daisy clenched her teeth when it started shaking, but as Basira lifted it higher and higher, Daisy letting out a soft gasp when it reached the ‘breaking point’, as her physical therapist called it. Basira hummed and moved to the other leg. And about an hour later, they were done, and Basira gave her a glass of water, which she drank very quickly. When she was finished, she looked at Basira and frowned. She had the look on her face which meant she was going to try to make some excuse to leave, to talk to Jon, to go on a ‘secret mission’, or to read some statements she wouldn’t let Daisy look at. 

Daisy decided to cut right to the chase, “Where are you gonna go?”

“Need to follow up on some leads.”

“Pick up some black tea while your out, or else Melanie will kill us all.”

Basira nodded and stood up. As she turned to leave, Daisy grabbed her arm, “Stay safe.”

“Always am.”

And with that, Basira was gone and Daisy was alone. She suspected she would last ten minutes before freaking out. Not wanting that outcome, she decided to visit Jon, as it was still early, so there was a chance he wouldn’t be in the middle of a statement yet. Unless he had spent the night in his office, which was also likely. Daisy leaned her head against the door, and when she heard no voices behind it, entered. 

“Hey Jon,” she said, closing the door behind her. He didn’t look up from the pile of statements in front of him and she assumed he was “meditating” or whatever he called it. Looking for something important.

She stood in her favorite corner, where the shelf was just tall enough that she could rest her arm on it and even lean against it when her legs started to shake. And she had a chair Jon brought in for her. She considered it and decided to sit down, her legs still shaking slightly from the workout.

As she sat in her chair and watched Jon, her mind drifted back to her dream. The feeling of his neck under her hands. The smell of his fear. The adrenaline pumping through her blood. It terrified and excited her. As much as she tried to distance herself from The Hunt, it always called her back. And she hated to admit it was working.

“You had a dream about me,” Jon’s voice broke through her thoughts and Daisy focused back to reality to see Jon staring at her. Not Jon, The Archivist, who had Jon’s brown eyes but drained them of every emotion, just blank slates. He spoke perfectly flat and Daisy could feel the pressure from the Eye bearing down on her. He still had a statement in his hand. 

“Jon,” she said, trying to shake him out of it. She could feel him watching her dream and she tried to mentally create a wall, to somehow physically stop him before he did something he would be guilty over for two weeks. Thankfully it worked, and she saw the light (the humanity) come back into Jon’s eyes. When he realized what he had done, he flushed and looked away guiltily.

“Sorry Daisy,” he said in that way of his, “It’s, uh, it’s a little hard to turn it off sometimes. To shut the door.”

“It’s fine,” she said, and she meant it. But Jon didn’t look convinced, “Jon, it’s _ fine _. I know you’re not doing it out of malice. And besides, I should probably talk to you about my dream anyway. We can mope over it together.”

“I don’t mope!” Jon replied indignantly, but by the look on his face, he conceded. 

“How much did you see. You know, in my head.”

Jon flushed again, “Not much, just you running around the tunnels, chasing me. I do hope it’s not a premonition.”

“I doubt it. I don’t see you as a threat anymore. More like...a friend.”

Jon got a small smile on her face that made her heart warm. It’s been a while since she’d had a proper friend (besides Basira). 

“So,” he said awkwardly after a beat of silence, “What was your dream about? I know I Saw some of it, but I want to hear it from you.”

“It started with me Chasing someone. Like I was a part of The Hunt again, chasing someone for Elias. I was running around in the tunnels under the Archives, chasing someone. I didn’t know who it was, but I could _ smell _ their fear, taste their scent in the air like I used to do before...everything. I finally caught them, and it turned out to be you, and I felt The Hunt coursing through my blood, and you were just _ staring _ at me and I pressed too hard on your neck with my knife and then - and then the room flooded with your blood, and you still were staring at me. Then I woke up,” as she recounted her dream, she made sure not to look at Jon, afraid his eyes would be as blank as they were in her dream.

“I don’t know what it means,” she finished, and she heard the squeak of Jon’s chair as he rolled it over to her, his hand coming into her vision as she stared at the ground. It was obvious even without looking at him, that he wanted to touch her but was too afraid to do so. She looked up at him and saw his brown eyes laced with concern, his brow furrowed. She grabbed his hand and saw some of the tension lift off his shoulders.

“Well, you aren’t killing me, so that’s something?” Jon tries but she shoots him a look, “I’m serious! It could very well be that your dream was a signifier of The Hunt about to “release itself” and take control of you again. But that doesn’t seem very likely. This dream scared you, right? That means that you don’t _ want _ to be apart of The Hunt again, and you don’t want to kill me. It’s just that part of you, like an addiction, it’s the withdrawal symptoms. Instead of making you twitchy and want to vomit, it gives you dreams, trying to call you back to something you’re leaving behind. That wasn’t you.”

“But what if it was?” she couldn’t stop the despair from seeping into her voice.

“Then we’ll - we’ll figure that out if it comes to it. But I think you’re fine, just as long as you aren’t embracing the chase inside of you, I think you’ll be fine,” he gave a shaky smile, and as much as her stomach was twisting and turning, she gave a reluctant smile back.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Jon.”

“No problem. I’ve never been very good at it so I hope I didn’t make you feel worse about yourself or something,” he looked so put out by the idea that Daisy let out a short laugh.

“No, your ‘pep talk’ was fine. I didn’t come here to make myself feel better anyway, I came to not be alone.”

Jon smiled and recognition flashed in his eyes, “I was about to read a statement. Do you mind if I read it and ask for your opinion on it? Since you all are so busy I never get any follow-up on statements anymore. And the information you provided the last time you were here was helpful.”

“Sure, as long as it isn’t about The Hunt, I’ve had enough of that power for one day.”

“No, it is actually about,” Jon looked at the statement, “The Dark.”

Daisy let go of his hand and pushed him towards his desk, where a tape recorder was already running. It was probably recording the whole conversation, she realized absentmindedly, “Go on then, Jon, start your statement. I’ll just sit back and listen.”

“Okay,” Jon turned around, laid the folder in front of him, and Daisy felt the pressure of the Eye looming over her as Jon began.

“Statement of Lois Lindsay, regarding the alley next to her childhood home…”

**Author's Note:**

> I love Daisy and Jon's relationship as trying-not-to-be-monsters buddies.


End file.
